


My Last Catastrophe

by NightsofTamara



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5099726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsofTamara/pseuds/NightsofTamara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during New Moon. Alice's patience with Edward is wearing thin, but not even she can predict what happens next. Canon couples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Last Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a oneshot, but it inspired 'Darkest Night' in my drabble collection and they could be considered two parts of the same story. Originally posted in Feb 2008.

I'll be the first to admit it: I despise uncertainty. If Edward was here he would say that all those decades of being able to look into the future at will have spoiled me, made me unwilling to wait for anything. But Edward isn't here, and therein lies the problem.

"Alice," Jasper sighed without looking up from the book he was reading.

"I'm sorry," I said, contrite. "Am I making it hard for you to concentrate?"

"You have no idea."

"I could leave," I offered, watching speculatively as snowflakes gusted past the window of the cozy room Tanya had loaned us. A walk outside in the spring snow would suit my mood perfectly.

"I don't want you to leave."

"Flatterer."

"Not only because I enjoy your company," he explained. "Although I do, very much," he added quickly, glancing at me over the top of his book. "But also because I think I would feel your frustration if you were anywhere within the state of Alaska, so you might as well stay where you are."

"Jasper!" I wailed suddenly. "He's making me crazy!"

"I know – believe me, I know. I'd be tempted to hunt him down and drag him back by the ears if I thought it would do any good." That surprised me. Jasper had been almost as miserable as Edward during the short time he had stayed with us this fall. Between our brother's black mood and Jasper's own guilt he had confessed to finding the atmosphere almost intolerable.

"But you and I both know he needs this," he continued. "Besides," he turned his attention back to his book, flipping to the next page. "He's probably right. What he was doing back in Forks was nothing short of madness."

"You think love is madness?" I challenged.

"No, just the way Edward goes about it," he answered, frowning at the words in front of him. "This… separation… could be for the best."

I knew that wasn't true, but I also knew that arguing with him about it was futile. For all his emotional attunement my husband would always be a soldier at heart, belonging to a realm of harsh realities and decisive action that was sometimes foreign to me. He had been baffled by Edward's relationship with Bella once it became obvious our brother had no intention of turning her – "trapped in limbo" was how he'd once referred to their strange love, shaking his head – but he understood Edward's eventual decision. It was clear-cut to him: if Edward wouldn't turn her, then he should let her go, for the good of everyone involved.

Apart from Edward, he also knew better than anyone the danger Bella faced merely from being in our presence.

Jasper set down his book. "You're worried about him."

"Of course."

"You still can't see anything?"

"No," I said sadly. For all his fretting Edward had left me one rather large loophole – he forbade me to look into Bella's future, but had said nothing about his own. My giddiness at his oversight had been quickly replaced by frustration once I realized how profoundly unenlightening his future really was. "It's the same as always. Either I see nothing at all, which I find tremendously aggravating" –

"I know," Jasper muttered.

"Or I see him moping around, trailing after Victoria like some sort of tragic bounty hunter."

"Perhaps his resolve is better than you think," Jasper suggested slowly, knowing I wouldn't like the possibility.

I shook my head. "No," I murmured, more to myself than Jasper. "The things I see are all fairly recent. If he was truly resolved on this I would be able to see further ahead. But he hasn't decided to go back yet, either – I would have seen _that_. He's just being… ridiculous," I said louder. "Positively ridiculous. _Beyond_ ridiculous."

Jasper smiled faintly and wound the fingers of one hand through mine. "I could pile on the guilt when he comes back, just to even things up."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," I accused with a good humor I didn't feel. I didn't need Jasper's gift to know that Edward was suffering terribly, and after seeing how happy he could be in the glow of Bella's love I found his agony to be unbearable. I didn't want him to suffer: that was the entire point.

"I suppose we could let him off the hook if he goes back to Forks first," I amended with mock reluctance. Jasper smiled thinly, unconvinced by my feigned cheerfulness. "I _am_ worried about not being able to see him, and not just because I want to know when he's going to stop tormenting himself."

Jasper shrugged. "This is Edward we're talking about. He can be rather… indecisive." Tanya happened to be walking by our open door at just that moment, and her laughter at Jasper's observation echoed down the hall. I couldn't laugh; not now. I couldn't even smile.

"That's not it though," I said slowly, turning the thought over in my mind. "You remember Bella's first day of school, of course." He nodded. "That first day, when Edward was going to tell Carlisle… he couldn't decide if he was really going to the hospital, or to her house. He changed his mind by the minute… several times a minute. I saw every one. It was disorienting." I shook my head, trying to dispel the memory of that day; dreading the news that the next second would bring but unable to look away.

"I remember," Jasper said, his voice gruff.

I laid one hand fondly against his cheek. Of course he would remember – the rush of emotions that day must have been dizzying. " _That_ was indecision. But this? He's not wavering between two choices," I said with sudden conviction, feeling the pieces fall into place. "He's not making a choice at all. He's simply existing."

"Which is a choice in itself," Jasper said quietly. He held up one hand to forestall my objections. "His choice. Edward is living in a prison of his own making, and even if he plans on spending the rest of his days living out this agony, it would still be his choice. No one can set him free but himself."

"It hurts to see him so miserable," I said in a small voice.

There was nothing more to be said after that. Jasper returned to his book, immersing himself in the abstractions of philosophy, while I struggled with a philosophical question of my own. Not for the first time, I wished I had never agreed to my brother's absurd restrictions. Surely Bella's future would have a better story to tell than Edward's. At the very least she could give me the hints that he so stubbornly refused me. If I looked ahead and saw Bella growing old without him, then I would know which course he had decided on. For the moment, at least. But if I looked ahead and saw Edward….

I stifled the sudden surge of hope that rose within me, glancing quickly at Jasper. He didn't look up from his book. There weren't many things I hid from my husband, but if there was any doubt in my mind that he would not approve of my meddling, our most recent conversation had firmly erased it. I would have to be very cautious.

It wasn't merely concern for Edward that caused my frustration. I missed Bella. More than that, I worried for her. Edward was right: she was a walking danger magnet, wrapped up in a frail human package. Who knows what could happen to her while we were gone? Who knew what had already happened? What was he thinking, insisting that we all leave so there was no one left to keep an eye on her? _Bella promised_ , the shadow of his voice reminded me, so insufferably sure of himself. Since when had Bella ever needed to try to get herself into trouble?

One little peek wouldn't hurt. Just one glance, enough to ensure that she was healthy and well. Just as Edward wanted.

"Alice," Jasper groaned.

"What?"

"You're feeling guilty and devious. I know you're plotting something."

I must have been a fool to try to slip something like that past Jasper; he was nearly as perceptive as Edward. My only hope now was to convince him that I was right. "Would it really be so terrible if I looked? If she's fine, well, then Edward never needs to know. But if she's not fine… don't you think he would want something to be done? He left to keep her safe, after all."

"And if she's fine, you'll just leave it at that? Will she still be fine in a week? Tomorrow? Five minutes from now? You'll want to keep looking, Alice, and sooner or later you'll see something that will make you want to interfere. You won't be able to help yourself."

"So what?" I said more loudly than I had intended, emotion colouring my voice. I could hear the others – Emmett, Rosalie, Tanya and her coven – moving about downstairs, undoubtedly listening in. "Would Edward really be so very angry at me for ensuring that Bella is still in one piece when he comes back?"

"I thought you couldn't see his future?" Jasper asked quickly, then continued without waiting for my response. "What if he never comes back? Even if he never makes a decision… eventually time will make the choice for him. Is it really fair to reopen old wounds? To prolong his agony?" His expression was wary when he looked at me. "I know you wish it were otherwise, but at this moment her death is inevitable, whether it's in fifty years or five minutes. Perhaps it would be better… for Edward… if it were sooner rather than later."

"You don't mean that." My voice was hardly a whisper.

He looked thoughtful. "A clean break. As he said."

I stared back at him, stricken.

I had seen Bella as one of us, that was true, but everyone knew that my visions were as changeable as the wind. Still, I had clung to that tantalizing glimpse of the future. I had seen it many times, and that had to count for something. Sometimes I could see the circumstances that led to that possibility; they changed now and then, as did the timing, but the final outcome was always the same. Edward could ignore it, deny it, rant and rage all he pleased, but I knew that deep down he must want it as much as Bella did for a vision to be so enduring.

Now I wondered. How much of that certainty was truth, and how much was my own wishful thinking? How much did I want my friend to become my true sister, golden eyed and pale? How much did I want my brother to hold on to his happiness?

What if Jasper was right? Was it possible that Edward wouldn't come back?

He believed she would move on and find happiness in her human way. I knew better, even if my dear brother was too thick to see it, and I didn't need to be clairvoyant to know how wrong he was on that score. But believe it he did, and as long as that were true there was always the chance he would stay away until it was too late, until Bella was no longer with us. Obviously Jasper felt that Edward's pain would lessen once she was gone, but would he truly go back to the way he was before? A little sadder, to be sure, a little more withdrawn, but still the same Edward?

How could he move on from this? How could I move on from this, having seen the future that he had sacrificed for love? Those of our kind never forget, and I knew I would think of my near-sister all through my endless days. I had shared my visions with Edward, hoping he would accept the inevitable. Regret washed over me like a tidal wave: how those thoughts of what could have been must taunt him.

Jasper continued to look off into space, not meeting my horrified eyes. I opened my mouth to say something – I didn't know what – but before I could speak I felt a familiar shiver pass through my mind. When I was young my visions came unbidden, but it wasn't long before I learned to harness my peculiar gift, and these days it was a rare thing indeed for one to come without some sort of input on my part. Perhaps it was inevitable, given the matter under discussion and my growing frustration with my power.

I knew from the instant the vision began to bloom before my eyes who my second sight would reveal to me, and I awaited it almost eagerly. Finally, finally, I would be able to answer my questions, and there wasn't a thing Edward could do about it.

I saw the sky first, filled with ominous clouds that hung black and low over the roiling water below. The coastline looked familiar, though I was certain I had never seen that particular place before. I would have recognized the great, dark cliff that jutted up from the rocky beach.

Bella was standing on that cliff, her long dark hair whipping in the wind and her eyes closed against the rain. She looked different somehow, even more delicate than when I'd known her, as if she was recovering from a long illness. She smiled to herself, and the joyful expression seemed out of place on her pale, wan face.

Her eyes opened and I saw that they were filled with resolve, and something else. Hope?

The wind had picked up, and her hair streamed like a flag behind her as she took a tentative step toward the edge, not looking down. A sickening certainty grabbed hold of me, twisting my stomach and clenching my hands into fists.

She smiled again, that same hopeful, sad smile, and I gazed wildly about the scene before me. She was too high up – it would kill her, and the rocks would finish her off even if she survived the fall.

Bella leaned forward slightly, still smiling, and raised her arms for the dive.

No! Oh, no!

There was nothing I could do. She was leaning forward, muscles tensing. I couldn't stop her, I couldn't save her. I'd lived life sped up for the past eighty years and now there wasn't enough time.

More gracefully than I would have thought possible for her, Bella Swan leapt from the cliff.

She spun through the air for an impossibly long time, as if fate was tormenting me for my failure now that her future was out of my meddling hands. But gravity took its eventual effect and she hit the water, the splash barely visible among the choppy waves. It hadn't looked as bad as I'd feared – she hadn't jumped head first, after all, and a wild hope rose within me. She would be fine. She had to be.

Edward, however, would _not_ be fine. Not once I was through with him.

Momentarily distracted by my thoughts of relief and revenge, I failed to notice that Bella hadn't resurfaced immediately. Four seconds had passed since she had hit the water. It was a long way down, I reasoned to myself, and she had been moving quickly. It would take several moments for her course to reverse itself.

Seven seconds. She would be fighting the current, which would slow her progress.

Ten seconds. Perhaps she was swimming toward the shore, just beneath the surface. There was really no need for the panic I felt welling up in my chest.

Twelve seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Twenty seconds. Twenty-five. Thirty.

One minute.

And then… nothing.

My vision cleared and I surfaced, gasping. Jasper was looking at me now, his hands at my shoulders. It took me some time to realize he was asking me what was wrong. Begging, really.

"Bella." My voice shook as I said her name. "My God. Jasper…"

"What?" He asked intently. "What did you see?"

I looked down at my folded hands to see that they were shaking as much as my voice had. The house was silent aside from our voices and my frantic breathing – if I'd had a heartbeat no doubt it would have been audible. "She jumped. Off. A cliff. Jasper!"

I heard a strangled groan and several gasps from the hallway outside of our door as my words carried to the others in the house. Jasper's hands tightened at my shoulders. "When?" he asked in a low voice.

I closed my eyes. Aside from the traces of suffering I could detect on her face, Bella looked as young as she had the day we'd left. "When you said it could be five minutes…" I trailed off, unable to continue. Outside the door, Emmett groaned again.

"There's no hope?"

I shook my head. The vision had a certain sense of imminence about it. The unexpected ones almost always did.

I stood up. "Where are you going?" Jasper asked, pulling his hands from my shoulders.

"Charlie," I said, not sure what I had been planning to do until I said his name aloud. "This will kill him."

Jasper grabbed my hand. "No. No interference. You promised Edward."

"To hell with Edward!" I snarled, pulling free and stalking toward the door.

"I think we've done enough damage," he said.

I stopped but did not face him. "Bella can't be hurt anymore. If I can help Charlie…" I shook my head, knowing as soon as I said the words that I would likely fail. "I have to try."

"I can't go with you."

"I know."

I stepped out into the hall as if in a dream, walking by the stunned faces of the others. Emmett looked devastated. Tanya and the others in her coven hadn't known Bella, but they had heard her story and their faces bore the aftershocks of horror and sadness. Even Rosalie looked upset, biting her lower lip and staring at the floor. I felt a brief, selfish sense of relief that I wouldn't be here to break the news to Carlisle and Esme once they returned from their hunting trip in a few days' time.

The thought struck me with such intensity that I stopped dead in my tracks. Edward. How on earth were we going to tell Edward?

As if Rosalie had read my mind she looked up at me. "I think we should call Edward."

"No."

Anger flashed through her eyes. "He should know."

"No!" I practically shouted.

"You can't hide this from him, Alice!" she argued back, her voice rising to meet mine.

I knew she was right, but I didn't have the time to argue with her. "You cannot tell Edward," I said through gritted teeth. "Lie to him, if he calls here. That goes for all of you. Promise me." Every head nodded, aside from my sister.

"How long?" she snapped.

"I don't know. I'll deal with it, but not now. I have to get to Forks." I looked at her intently. "Promise."

She nodded reluctantly and I flew down the hall to the room I shared with Jasper. I heard him enter quietly behind me as I tossed a few things into a bag to take with me.

"I'm sorry."

I turned and wound my way into his arms, clasping his face in my hands. "Don't be sorry. We both want Edward to be happy, don't we? We only disagree on how to go about it. That's hardly a crime."

The faintest of smiles crossed his lips. "Why do I have a bad feeling about all of this?"

"Because you're naturally a pessimist? I have to go, Jasper." I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him. "When Esme and Carlisle come back… do what you can for them. Please."

"I will," he promised, then he was kissing me back, fiercely, as if I was the only thing tying him to this world. As if he would never see me again once he released me.

I pulled away, breathless. "It's only Forks, Jasper. I _will_ see you soon." He kissed me once more, lightly, and then I was running out the front door.

I would go to Forks and help Charlie in any way I could, even though it would never repair the damage we had wrought upon his life, and then I would turn my attention to my own family. Rosalie was right: we couldn't hide it from him forever. If I had been alone when the vision had struck… but even then, Edward was entirely too perceptive. He would have found it out from me sooner or later.

There was one thing of which I was certain. Edward would learn of her death, one way or another, but he could never know of the circumstances. I thought again of Bella's face as she jumped – that, sad haunting smile tinged with impossible hope – and I shuddered. I had to find a way to bury that vision in my memory, so deep that even he wouldn't be able to spy it out. I had to make it seem that she'd fallen somehow, that her death had nothing to do with him.

I worried that her death would break him. If he found out that she'd jumped…. I shuddered again, not wanting to think of it.

It would _destroy_ him.


End file.
